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Tuesday, May 28, 1946
In the last mad jumble that inevitably comes with the
closing of school, this editor, through a deluge of other mate
rial, has come up with a note of appreciation for the Junior
Pointer staff and those associated with it. Thanks are in or
der for 210, whose many afternoons that one-third of us spent
writing in the room, one-third roaming the halls in quest of
information, and the other third visiting Mr. Laffoon at the
print shop (all three-thirds exhausting Miss Connell’s patience
no end) have all been a part of writing a school paper. There
have been too many outstanding individual contributors to
name, but among the valuable and unmentioned have been
Mardelle Snipes, exchange editor, and Ted Hodge, photogra
pher. Our appreciation is also extended to those 7th and 8th
grade rooms contributing.
After all’s said and done, though, whether the 1945-46
Junior Pointers have maintained that sparkle and wit afore
mentioned in the paper we’ll leave for you to say.
Not Less But Greater”
“I will leave this school greater than it was left me.” This is an
emphatic excerpt from our creed. I’m sure we have all wondered, at
times, if we have made it come true.
Let us think of some instances in which this aim is realized. By be
ing faithful to student council duties we have maintained an efficient
organization. Representatives of the music department *o the
festival in Winston-Salem and brought back all A ratings. The JUNIOR
POINTER staff presented to the school a first class honor rating from
the National Scholastic Press Association.
Then, too, don’t you think dear old Junior High could say to us,
“I will send you out not less, but greater than you were when you came
to me?” For every contribution of service that we have given o
school has resulted in inches to our own statures.
We ninth and eighth graders who will go to Senior High ^
given fair compensation for our expectations. Many "^w ^nd lasting
friends have been made. Many contacts in this school will go towa d
developing character and future citizens of YOUNTS
The closing of school will find
many of us eligible to drive
from the standpoint of age. Dur
ing the learning period, one of
our parents will be on the seat be
side us. Then we will be com
pelled to drive cautiously.
But what about after the fun
damentals have been mastered
and we are out on our own and
with the gang? Are we going to
do the sensible thing and put into
practice all the caution which our
parents so painstakingly taught
us or are we going to say “At last
I can drive as I please,” and then
proceed to throw caution the
Published Six Times Yearly By The
HIGH POINT JUNIOR HIGH SCHOOL
Jones Street, High Point, N. C.
Editor-in-Chief Marilyn Robinette
Associate Editor Carolyn Murray
Eighth Grade Editors Carolyn Andrews, Tommy Lentz
Seventh Grade Editors Anne Garst, Joanne Danielson
News Editor Donald Thurber
Sports Editor Max Thurman
Feature Editor Jon Barnes
Artist —- Tom Garst
Exchange Editor Mardelle Snipes
Fiddle ’n Fife Patricia Cook
Jumbled Jots and Jingles Mazie Strickland, Dot Kendall
Thru’ the Buttonhole Betty Clare Schultheiss
Stop! Look!—And Whistle Joyce Loftin
Turn Backward, O Time Sara Barrier
Idol Chatter Jean Kearns
Buzzing Around With the Clubs Nancy Jo Smith
Party Pickin’s Evelyn Nance
Hankerings ? ? ? ?
Principal Mr. Lloyd Thayer
Editorial — Miss Connell, Miss Craven, Miss Winfield, Miss
Booker, Miss Kathleen Young.
Business — Mrs. Frost.
City Public Schools
Charles F. Carroll, Supt.
High Point, N. C.
May 14, 1946
Miss Thelma Connell
C/o Junior High School
High Point, N. C.
Dear Miss Connell:
To you and through you to
all other persons associated
in the publication of the JU
NIOR POINTER, I extend
upon your having won a first
class honor rating for this
year. The paper is certainly
worthy of commendation and
approval and I hope all of you
have enjoyed satisfaction
from having produced such a
Charles F. Carroll,
But Slay Alive
In the newspapers we read
about horrible accidents of which
teen-agere were the victims. We
shudder at the sight of the pic
tures of these accidents. But we
reassure ourselves by saying, “Oh,
that will never happen to me—I’m
too lucky.” The next point I’m go
ing to make is obvious. But I’m
going to make it anyhow. It Can
Happen To You.
Let’s be on the roll of students
whom the school bell summons to
class next fall instead of on the
roll of automobile victims for
whom the church bell has tolled a
memorial during the summer.
Y i p p e e e
Mr. Hasty Gets Even
The audience is so impressed that a few parents here and there are
brushing away a few surreptitious tears. Five hundred or more childish
faces are massed in a solid blanket of innocence and beauty. The top row
reaches the overhead curtain; the bottom row extends into the audience
past the orchestra pit. The cherubs sing. The audience holds its breath.
And Mr. Hasty doesn’t catch his
again until it’s all over. He built
I walked into the room, that day.
Oh, I was feeling swell.
That is, until I heard the news
Which someone had to tell.
“They’re giving us exams today!”
That was the whispered word.
My stomach turned, too sick to
Oh, for the wings of a bird!
Why weren’t we informed before.
How were we to guess?
That we were to take today
Those everlasting teste-
Why is R plus X, or which designs
Or when did Franco get his reign?
I can’t remember dates!
Spell questionnaire, and chloro
These teachers ask so many
Just to prove we’re dumb!
“Now boys and girls, you must
Keep your eyes on me!
Ready, now! Then you may start.
As soon as I count three.”
I toiled and blundered through
With naught but tests on mind,
I knew if I had flunked exams.
I’d just be left behind.
It’s over now, for three whole
No more work for me!
No more tests, or teachers.
Keep your tests, you teachers.
Don’t put thefn in my way,
’Cause you and I part company.
Upon this very day!
—By l^etty Clarke Dillon
the vehicle that carries that mass
of precious cargo. And—well—
500 is a lot of young-uns.
For years, Mrs. Hasty has been
called upon to make work, in a
practical way, some ambitious
scheme of some producing teacher.
And sometimes he’s made hasty
exits from the productions them
selves. There was the time when
the Maypole wobbled in the midst
of the winding. Enter—Mr. Hasty
with hammer in hand to make the
Maypole secure; exit—Mr. Hasty,
skipping lightly in the manner of
the dancers, and to the applause
of the spectators. Then there was
the time a teacher decided she
just HAD to have a real, live pig
in an Irish tableau. Mr. Hasty
made a house to house canvass of
the farmers of Guilford county
and found one. But when he
brought it back to school, this
little pig didn’t like the other little
pigs in the tableau—so exit Mr.
Hasty with the squealing creature
tucked under his arm. And then
there was the time that the ampli
fying set which Mr. Hasty rigged
up, broadcast the football game
along with the Christmas pro
gram. But let’s don’t go into that.
For Mr. Hasty came very near
making a quick exit from the mor
tal stage that time, and Miss Con
nell is still a little touchy on the
And now Mr. Hasty is driving
the teachers crazy with those deaf
ening and maddening noises made
by those confounded motors. He
calls them lawn mowers but they
sound like cement mixers.
fumbled. ^inqlM and
by Mazie and Dot
This column is dedicated to all people
Who got together their wits.
And planned and performed in
The campaign skits.
“What—Sr. High is burning down—oh, me!!” wailed Shirley Rae
Gallimoore as she rode off hastily in her little red fire engine. Who did
all the cheering when this horrrible thing was announced, ninth graders?
Eerie calls from the graveyard coming—
High pitched screaming and woeful humming,
DORIS CHITWOOD, a red-haired ghost.
Was leader of the white-garbed host.
She screched and shrieked that everyone’s fate
Was doomed—unless they voted for her candidate.
He’s layin’ out—he’s going to vote—laying’ out—goin’ to vote—
layin’ out (intermission)—goin’ to vote—layin’ out—goin’ to vote—
(Neither one will give in)—Layin’ out—goin’ to vote—etc.—etc... Just
what were your intentions, MAX FARLOWE?
That JUNE BIVINS and SHIRLEY GALLIMORE
Really made you laugh your eyes sore.
They acted just like real mountain folks.
By dancing jigs and telling corny jokes!
B CLO t 1 ;